Feeling Rundown
by mcatB
Summary: Post-ep for The Rundown Job. Eliot's feeling the effects of his injuries.
1. Chapter 1

Hardison hugged Parker tight, thankful for her intellect; thankful that she was still with him.

"You're not the only smart one around here," she whispered, reading his thoughts, hugging him back. She gave him another quick kiss, then said, "Come on, we have to get Eliot."

Hardison nodded his head and took her hand, walking them both quickly back to the train car. Before he'd followed Parker out, he'd exchanged glances with Eliot from where he lay on the floor of the train car. He knew his friend had been shot. Knew his friend would be in need of medical attention. But he also knew that they had had bigger things to deal with at the moment. And with that moment gone, it was back to being concerned about their small team.

They found Eliot, now sitting up on one of the train's seats, his feet resting on the chest of the unconscious evil doctor.

"Hey, man, how you doin'?" Hardison asked as he approached.

"Been better. Been worse," was Eliot's pain-filled reply. "Wouldn't mind getting the hell out of here."

"We need to get you to a hospital," Hardison replied.

"No hospitals," Eliot quickly replied. "Bullets both went through. I'll be fine."

Hardison looked at Parker, who had been quietly tying up the doctor's hands and ankles, and said, mockingly, "Oh, yeah, bullets went through. He'll be fine! The man has been SHOT and he says he's fine!"

"Let's just get out of here!" Eliot growled, holding out his left hand to get an assist.

Parker quickly rose and grabbed the hand. She gave a tug and Hardison quickly moved in to help, too. Between the two of them, they managed to get Eliot off the train and heading down the tracks toward an emergency exit.

Parker didn't like that Eliot didn't want to go to a hospital any more than Hardison, but she understood his dislike of the places. She understood the need to stay under the radar and away from being identified; shown to the world; She understood the vulnerability of giving yourself to strangers' care.

When Eliot let out a grunt of pain when they climbed the steps, they stopped and let him sit to rest. Eliot knew his adrenalin rush was fading, that the pain and blood loss were taking their toll. He also knew just how many steps it was up to street level. He needed to rest a bit.

"Hold on a sec," he told Parker and Hardison after he'd caught his breath. "Let me give Vance an update. "

The other two knew what Eliot was doing – giving himself time to recoup. And he did need to give Vance an update… Hardison looked at Eliot's wounds again. He pulled off his shirt and then his undershirt. He tore the undershirt up into two strips and tied one around Eliot's leg.

Eliot was mid-sentence and let out a gasp as Hardison tightened the knot. When Vance questioned him, he'd denied anything had happened, just saying that they'd see him topside.

Hardison put his outer shirt back on just as Eliot put his phone away.

"Ready, Sparky?" Parker asked, motioning to the stairwell.

"Let's do it," was Eliot's terse response.

Shaking his head, Hardison moved in and grabbed Eliot by his belt loops, helping him to stand. They moved to the left side of the stairwell and Eliot grabbed onto the handrail with his left hand. Hardison stood on his right, holding him around his waist. "Ready?" he asked, and Eliot replied by hopping up the step on his good leg.

"Just take your time, boys," Parker said, following closely, her hands lightly supporting them as they moved upward.

They stopped often; Eliot, despite being in excellent shape otherwise, needing to catch his breath. Even Hardison, not used to such physical exertion, was grateful for the respite.

"A few more steps to go. Almost there," was Parker's next encouragement.

Just as they reached the door to the stair exit, it opened, letting in a bit of sunlight. Vance was there.

"Fancy meeting you here," he greeted them with a smile, quickly moving down the few steps, taking up Eliot's weight from his left side. "I got him," he told Hardison.

But Hardison did not let go, saying, "I still got this side. Not a problem."

Eliot smiled to himself at Hardison's words. Such distrust in the military man… Hardison was not about to let him go without a fight. Hell, the way Parker still stood so close, too, he knew he was in good hands. Even Vance's. While he would not willingly, officially, work for the government again, even for Vance, he knew Vance would do right by him. But he knows Vance. Knew he could trust him, deep down.

The trio brought him to a waiting ambulance and sat him on the edge of the floor at the open back doors. Eliot knew what the EMTs were legally allowed to do, what they were expected to do.

For them, having a man with not one, but two gunshot wounds is considered major trauma – whether he was bleeding out, unconscious or not. Hell, they'd normally be hooking him up to IV solutions, starting him on oxygen, tying him down onto a backboard… He hated to disappoint them, but he was not going to go to the hospital.

This was the time that he was damn glad to have Vance there. As the military rank allowed, or actually only coerced, he was able to tell the EMTs that their job at the moment was to provide bandaging and dressings for the wounds and to make sure that Eliot's vital signs were stable. Which they did and they were . Anyone else would have had a police officer there by the EMT's request making sure that the injured party went to the hospital, with or without their consent, to be cared for and have all the proper documentation handled, etc.

Eliot quietly gave them access to his shoulder and leg wounds – enough to see the wounds, but not remove any clothing. And Eliot quietly let them wrap the bandages around his leg and shoulder, breathing through the pain as they pressed hard and tightened the bandages. He ignored whatever they said to him, listening only for key words from Vance, Hardison or Parker as he put the pain into another part of his brain to deal with later.

So when Vance allowed them to walk, or limp away, as the case happened to be, Eliot was a very happy person. Dropping the crutch – and where had that come from, Eliot wondered, as that type of equipment is not ambulance standard – Eliot gladly took up Hardison's help again as they headed back to wherever they would go.

"I know you're hurting, Eliot," Parker told him as she walked on his other side. "How's that gray car over there look? I think it should be comfortable enough for a quick ride to a nice motel."

"Sounds good," Eliot replied quietly and allowed himself to be led to the car Parker had motioned to.

He leaned on Hardison as Parker expertly unlocked the soon-to-be-stolen vehicle and opened the door, telling Hardison at the same time, "We're only borrowing it, Hardison. Lucille is too far away to walk."

"I know that!" Hardison shot back, indignant; hating that Eliot knew what he was thinking.

Eliot let out a painful groan as he practically fell into the passenger seat of the car. "Parker, let Hardison drive," he said as he let his head fall against the headrest. "I'm not up for any of your driving right now." He closed his eyes and shut out the quiet bickering between Parker and Hardison as she hotwired the car to start and then moved to the back seat.


	2. Chapter 2

About five minutes later, Eliot felt the vibration of his cell phone. There was a text message for him from Vance. Eliot smiled a bit, then texted a quick reply.

"Keep heading this way. About thirty miles into Virginia is a small "mom and pop" motel – The Three Bear Inn – go there," Eliot told Hardison.

"The Three Bear Inn?" Hardison questioned sarcastically as he drove. "Well we got Goldilocks in the back seat and you sure are grumpy enough to be Papa Bear…"

"So you can be my little Baby Bear, Hardison!" Parker exclaimed, using a babyish voice from the back seat, rubbing the back of Hardison's head.

"Nuh-uh!" Hardison retorted. "I ain't nobody's little baby – not even yours, Parker!"

"I guess that leaves Mama Bear, then," she shot back, giggling.

Eliot closed his eyes and once again tried to shut the pair out for a bit. The wounds were becoming painful and uncomfortable. Every time he moved in the seat, he jostled either the shoulder or the leg. He was starting to feel bad about stealing the car now, as the seat he was in was going to be unsalvageable due to the blood stains he was leaving. He reached down to his left leg and pressed lightly with his hand, trying to be subtle and not worry his teammates.

…..

Hardison found the surprisingly non-descript motel about half an hour later. Parker got them a first floor room with two queen beds. Hardison was be happy to find The Three Bear Inn's accommodations included free wi-fi and cable TV and was in an area where they could have take-out delivered.

When Parker came back to the car she and Hardison helped Eliot get out of the car.

"You really need to go to a hospital, Eliot," Hardison remarked, slinging his friend's left arm over his shoulder.

"No. No hospital," Eliot protested, his stubbornness giving him some strength. "Just need to lie down and sleep for a while. I'm wiped out."

"Stubborn fool," Hardison muttered, unhappy, but still willing to appease Eliot as he walked him to the room.

Parker, who had been on Eliot's other side, let go of his waist once they were in the room. She shut the door behind them and quickly moved to the first bed, pulling down the covers.

"Put the shower curtain down first; then cover it with a sheet," Eliot instructed. He'd already made a mess in the car. He didn't want to ruin the motel room.

Hardison wanted to protest – he felt how much weight Eliot was letting him carry, he didn't think Eliot could wait too much longer before he'd collapse.

"Won't take her that long," Eliot muttered, feeling Hardison's body language protest.

And it wasn't. Parker, too, knew how long Eliot would last being held up by Hardison. She made quick work of the bed, spreading out the shower curtain and covering it with a sheet. She also dumped a pile of towels at the bottom of the bed.

Hardison helped Eliot hop over to the bed and to sit down, wincing himself when Eliot let out a loud groan.

Eliot closed his eyes tight as he clenched his teeth, trying not to let out the scream of pain that was trying to get out. He hated it enough that Hardison and Parker had to hear the groan he'd let escape.

"Easy, man," Hardison soothed, lifting Eliot's legs up onto the bed and helping him to lie down.

"Parker, go ditch the car," Eliot ground out. It was a necessary thing to do, so they wouldn't be found out, and he didn't want her around when he'd be stripping down to get to his wounds.

Parker was about to protest when Hardison told her, "He's right, Mama. You go on. I got 'im."

She nodded her head and moved to the door. Turning back, she said, "I won't be long."

After the door was closed, Hardison turned back to Eliot, who was now shaking with the effort of holding in the pain. "Let it go, El," he told his friend. "We're good."

"Need to cut off the bandages and clothes," Eliot told him, pulling out a pocket knife and ignoring Hardison's offer to let out a scream or two. "Use direct pressure on my leg. Tie the towels down tight."

Hardison made quick work of cutting off Eliot's pants leg, using the knife efficiently. He threw the bloodied cloth and bandages into a garbage can and grabbed two of the hand towels. He maneuvered one of them under Eliot's leg, at the exit wound and put the other on top at the entrance wound and pressed down hard, forcing Eliot to finally let out the scream he'd been holding.

"Feel better now?" Hardison asked, using the belt he'd taken off his own pants to tighten the makeshift bandages on Eliot's leg.

"Yeah, much," Eliot replied with a snarl. "If it bleeds through, add another towel," he told Hardison, bringing the conversation back to the task at hand and away from pain or feelings.

"You bleed through, and I'm calling an ambulance," Hardison muttered to himself, moving to the other side of the bed, to get to Eliot's shoulder wound.

"Same thing up here," Eliot said with a gasp, as Hardison's movement jarred the bed.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it."

Again, Hardison made quick work of Eliot's clothing, not bothering to try to save any of it – they would buy more. Putting more towels to work, Hardison realized, unhappily, that he was getting too used to this idea of cleaning up Eliot's blood; that while he didn't like doing it, he was doing it none-the-less.

…..

By the time Parker made it back to the room, Eliot was asleep. Parker moved to pull the covers up a little higher over him, to just under his chin. He moved his head to the side and moaned quietly under her touch, but did not awaken.

"_He_ says he's fine," Hardison muttered, replying to her unasked question.

"Then he is," Parker said back to him, moving over to sit on the other bed. She saw that Hardison had put all the bloodied clothes and bandages into a plastic bag and was continuing to clean up the room a bit.

Hardison looked at Parker and moved over to the bed and sat on it, next to her. After she looked into his eyes, and he saw the weariness and worry, he opened his arms and pulled her into an embrace, brushing his hand through her hair and down her back. "He'll be fine. Our turn to take care of him," he told her.

"He's never been shot before."

"Not with us, no," Hardison responded. "But he's been shot before." He saw the scars on Eliot's body as he'd bandaged him. "So he knows what he can handle. He says he'll be fine, then I believe him." Hardison wasn't totally sure of that statement, but he wanted to be, for Parker's sake.

The two had been sitting quietly in each other's arms for about a half an hour or so, when they were startled by a knock on the door. They looked at each other, shrugging – signaling that neither knew who would know they were there. Hardison quickly checked the room – making sure the bag of bloody bandages was out of sight and Eliot was still covered up with the blanket. As he went to the door, Parker stood to the side, holding up a metal garbage can from the room, ready to hit whoever was there, if necessary.

A second set of knocks came and Vance's voice, announcing himself. "Come on Parker, Hardison; open up. I've got medical supplies for Spencer," he told them.

Hearing that, Hardison quickly opened the door and ushered in Vance and another man. The other man, while not dressed in uniform, was obviously military.

"How'd you find us?" Hardison asked, afraid that his own tactics and measures were countered by the government worker.

"This is Joe Gravers," Vance said, nodding to the other man. Looking at Parker, who was now standing between the two newcomers and Eliot, he added, "He's a medic. We're here to help."

"And again?" Hardison asked, wanting to ask how they were found.

"I'm the one who told Spencer to come here," Vance replied as he and Gravers moved to either side of Eliot. "Told him if I didn't hear from him in an hour, we'd come out to check on him."

Hardison nodded, glad that they hadn't somehow been tracked. Then he shook his head as he looked at Eliot; the man had had a plan. He and Parker moved back and watched as the two military men began taking care of Eliot.

Eliot had been startled and if he'd had the strength would have come up swinging, when the blanket was pulled down and he'd heard non-Parker and non-Hardison voices.

"Easy, Spencer," Vance soothed. "Just Gravers and me."

"Gravers… hell of a name… for a medic," Eliot mumbled, cracking his eyes open, looking at the men, making sure they were who they said they'd be.

The medic smiled back at his patient, saying, "That joke never gets old, Spencer. Now shut up and let me work."

Parker and Hardison looked at each other, shrugging at the banter, but found themselves relaxing. Eliot trusted these two, so they would, too. They watched as the two men worked, stripping Eliot of what was left of his clothing and inspecting the towel bandages that Hardison and Eliot had put on.

"They both have exit wounds, like I told you," Vance told Gravers.

"Yeah, so no bullet retrieval, but I want to irrigate and clean 'em both out. Clothing threads are bitch, wind up causing infections and shit," Gravers responded.

It was then obvious that the last statement was for Parker and Hardison's benefit. Vance looked to them and asked, "Think you can get another dozen towels or so? Frank, the owner of this place; he'll have some at the office, no questions asked."

"I'll get them," Parker said, halfway to the door already.

"This a regular place for you then?" Hardison asked Vance. He wondered how many other wounded men, like Eliot, Vance had sent here.

Vance, picking up on Hardison's hard tone, replied, "No. I just know the owner."

"Vance, give me a hand here," Gravers called, bringing the colonel's attention back to Eliot. It was then obvious that Vance had some medical training, too, as he was the one that started an IV in Eliot's left hand while Gravers was listening to Eliot's breathing.

Parker had brought the extra towels and she and Hardison sat and watched the two men work on their friend. Eliot had struggled, and cried out in pain at first, as Graver started cleaning out the bullet wounds, but then Vance added a narcotic to the IV. Soon, their friend's pain decreased and he fell into a drug induced sleep.

"Isn't too bad," Graver said to the pair watching. "Sometimes the bleeding takes the debris with it. And Spencer knows his limits. He also knows when he's got friends backing him up." Then he looked at Vance. "And sometimes not-quite friends."

Vance smirked at that and came back with, "Get back to work. I'm not paying you to talk, Gravers."

"You're not paying me for my medical skills, either," he replied.

"I'm sure Spencer will come up with something."

"If he doesn't, we will," Parker spoke up, looking at Gravers.

He smiled back at her. He'd gotten the low-down on this group on the drive with Vance. He had no doubt that he'd find some extra funds in his bank account by the time he next checked it. Not that he was expecting it, or would demand it. He still owed Eliot a few debts.

…..

When all was done, they carried Eliot over to the other, clean, bed and settled him in, again covering him up to the chin with extra blankets. By his count, Hardison saw that Eliot was on his fourth bag of IV fluids.

Parker helped Vance removed the dirtied sheets and shower curtain from the first bed. Vance grabbed the plastic bags they'd filled and left the room, saying he'd be back. And within ten minutes, he was, with an armload of clean linens and a new shower curtain.

Hardison offered to take them and put them to use.

"Frank said we're good here for the next few days," Vance said.

"Hard part'll be keeping Spencer down that long," Gravers added with a smile.

"You do know our boy very well," Hardison remarked.

"Got any good stories for us?" Parker asked, a little chipper in her voice, knowing that Eliot has been tended to by professionals and they weren't worried.

"Anything we'd tell you is classified," Vance replied.

"And anything not classified will get our asses kicked," Gravers said from his seat next to Eliot's bed.

"Yeah, we know," Parker sighed, disappointed.

Vance went to the door again. "I'll be back in a bit. I'll bring some dinner." Before anyone could put in requests or even protest, he was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

"So you really won't tell us anything?" Parker asked, looking at Gravers. She and Hardison were sitting next to each other on the bed Hardison had just made.

He laughed to himself, seeing right through the blonde's soon-to-be-shown puppy-dog eyes. "He's a hell of a gourmet," he told her.

"Nothin' new, man," Hardison told him. "Hell, you're lookin' at his two favorite recipe guinea pigs!"

Gravers laughed out loud this time. "Most of the time, I was the first to volunteer," he said raising his hand. "The man has a gift when it comes to food."

Hardison looked at the subject of their conversation, sleeping in the bed. "He's really gonna be okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," Gravers replied. "Spencer's tough – you know that. And he's got a strong will to protect people; he can't do that if he doesn't take care of himself. Right now, I'm guessing you two and the other two on your team are his current tight circle; part of that strong will to protect."

"That's our Sparky," Parker said with a smile.

"So what's _your_ story, man?" Hardison asked, looking back at Gravers. "You obviously go back with Vance and Eliot."

Gravers tilted his head back and smirked, letting out a huff of a laugh. "Let's just say that the three of us go back and leave it at that. It'll be safer all around."

Parker elbowed Hardison and rolled her eyes, before mimicking Eliot's voice and saying, "If I tell you, I have to kill you."

Gravers sat up and looked at Parker and Hardison and asked, "So, Parker, Hardison; tell me about yourselves. Where'd you grow up? Who taught you to be such a good thief and hacker?" He smiled at them.

"Touche'," Hardison replied, with a small salute in Gravers' direction.

After a moment or two of silence, Hardison picked up a remote and turned on the room's television. After surfing the channels for a few minutes, he found the Syfy network, stopped and smiled, saying, "Here we go. You just can_not_ beat a _Firefly_ marathon," as he leaned back against the bed's headboard and gathered Parker to him.

…..

After being gone for about an hour, the trio heard a series of knocks on the door.

"That's Vance," Gravers said, standing and going to the door. He let the colonel, holding several bags of groceries and a pizza box, into the room and secured the door.

Parker came off the bed and started unpacking one of the bags.

"Figured I couldn't go wrong with pizza and beer," Vance said. "How's Spencer?" he asked Gravers.

"No change," the medic replied around a slice of pizza he'd already grabbed.

Vance moved to the bed where Eliot lay to see for himself. The other three didn't miss the way Vance looked at the injured man, but they didn't acknowledge it or mention it aloud, either.

"Between the blood loss, shock, trauma and the narcotics you gave him, he should be out until morning," Gravers said. He moved next to Vance and more quietly said, "He'll be fine."

Vance nodded. "Thanks, Joe, I appreciate you coming out." Gravers was about to say something, but Vance cut him off, countering, "You say you owe him, but even if you didn't, if it was an even score, you'd be here."

"Just like you, Vance. Just like you," Gravers said with a nod of his head.

Moving back to Parker and Hardison, the pair grabbed some more pizza and a couple bottles of beer. They settled into the chairs, facing them toward the television. Parker and Hardison were already back on the bed, their food and drinks in hand, as they continued watching the TV show.

"That Jayne guy's a hoot," Parker said between beer swigs. "Hardison, don't you have a hat with ear flaps and a pom-pom on it just like his?" she teased.

…..

Vance turned the page of the book he'd been reading then rubbed at his tired eyes. He looked at his watch; it was 4:15am. He stood and went to Eliot's bed. With practiced ease and a gentleness that belied the big man's size, he pulled the blankets down off from Eliot's torso, exposing his arms and chest. He took the injured man's pulse and then his blood pressure. Satisfied, he nodded. He checked the IV next; making sure it was still flowing properly. He checked the bandages on Eliot's shoulder next, and then pulled the blankets all the way down and off, to see the leg. He only checked visually, making sure there was no bleeding from either the entrance or exit wounds. When Vance was satisfied, he covered Eliot back up and tucked him in. He found himself looking into Eliot's sleepy eyes.

"How'm I doin'?" Eliot managed in a whisper.

"Just fine, Spencer," Vance replied, smiling slightly. "How's the pain? You need anything?"

"Aspirin or ten would help."

"Coming right up," Vance told him. He pulled a syringe and a small vial from the medical kit. He measured out a dose and pushed the narcotic into the IV port.

"Parker? Hardison?" Eliot asked.

"They're fine. Sound asleep in the next bed." He moved out of the way, so Eliot could see for himself and a few minutes later Vance watched Eliot's eyes slide close as the narcotic took effect.

…..

Eliot woke several times during the morning. Gravers didn't want to keep him too far down in the narcotic sleep, just enough to dull the pain and force him to rest. The group was happy to see that he was responding well to the treatments – that while still in pain and still weakened by the trauma – he was showing no signs of infection or complications. Shortly after noon, he threw the covers off his bed and started to get up.

"Gotta go," he mumbled.

Hardison quickly rushed to his side, ready to help him up.

When Eliot realized he was naked, though, he shoved the hacker away, yelling, "Dammit, Hardison! I don't need your help!" He quickly pulled the sheet around his waist, adding quietly, "Just going to the bathroom."

Hardison gave him a "really?" look, but backed off, hands out. "Okay…," he said.

Vance and Gravers exchanged knowing look just as Eliot managed to stand, one hand holding onto the sheet, and just seconds before his leg buckled and Vance and Hardison had to grab him and sit him down on the bed.

"Yeah," was all Hardison had to say when Eliot again shook off his grip.

Hardison backed off when Parker put a hand to his shoulder. Somehow in her touch he realized that the dynamics in the room had changed.

"We got this," Vance said, nodding to Gravers, telling him to join him. Together, the two got Eliot up and walked him into the bathroom, Gravers holding the IV bag, whose tube was still in Eliot's hand, in his mouth, closing the door behind them.

"They go back," Parker said, sitting back down on the bed. "Farther than us. Different than us."

Hardison tilted his head and shook it slightly; knowing she was right, recognizing the military brotherhood in the three, but saddened that somehow, he and Parker weren't close enough for him to trust them. He let out a tired sigh.

"And besides; do you _really_ want to help him in the bathroom?" Parker asked him, scrunching her nose in playful disgust, and playfully poking his ribs, trying to lighten the mood.

It worked and it brought a smile to Hardison's face. "You're right, Parker. Let them do the dirty work."

A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened and the trio emerged. Vance and Gravers brought Eliot right back to bed and laid him down, covering him up quickly, to get him warm again.

It was quick to see that the quick trip had taken a lot of energy and Eliot was asleep again before Gravers could even consider more of the narcotics.

"Why don't we get out of here for a bit?" Hardison suggested. "Me and Parker, we need to go back to DC, to get Lucille."

"Who's she?" Vance asked suspiciously.

"Not who; what," Parker replied. "It's his van."

Gravers laughed. "Lucille, huh?" he asked. "I had a Jeep named Carla, once."

Vance shook his head, but tossed his car keys to Hardison. "Your turn to bring back dinner," he told them. When the pair hesitated at the door, he added, "Don't worry."

…..


	4. Chapter 4

Not much longer after the door clicked shut, Vance and Gravers heard the whispered, "'Bout time they left," from Eliot.

Gravers smiled as he helped Eliot sit up in bed, propping him up with pillows. "How you doin', man?"

"Hurts like hell and you know it, Joe," he replied. When he saw Vance grab the medical kit, he added, "I told you, Vance, don't give me any strong stuff. I don't want to go to sleep again just yet."

Vance nodded knowingly, and grudgingly, and grabbed a different medication. He showed it to Eliot first, before shaking out some pills. He gave them and a bottle of a sports drink to Eliot and waited while he downed the pills.

"You could have just told them you were in pain, you know, instead of just pretending to sleep," Vance said. "They're pretty smart. You didn't gain anything here."

"Sleep is one thing. Pain is another."

"Spencer-"

"I'm supposed to be the one that protects them! I can't let them think I can't do my job; that this is gonna make a difference," Eliot told them.

"Uh, they've been helping take care of your shot up ass, Spencer. They know how bad you're hurt," Gravers put in.

Vance took the drink bottle from Eliot's hand and put it on the nightstand. "It isn't that you don't want them to see you in pain, Spencer," he said, taking a seat on the bed opposite, facing Eliot and continuing the conversation. When he had Eliot's full attention, he continued, "You just don't want to see the guilt in their eyes. No matter how many times you tell them that you were just doing your job, that getting hurt to protect them is what you do and part and parcel to the job, they still feel guilty. You don't like it because you don't know how to change that."

Gravers and Vance both saw the denial in Eliot's eyes, the response forming in his mind.

Vance continued, "It's not like the old days – you got paid to do what you did; directly. Bodyguard, retrieval specialist, US Soldier… nobody felt guilty because they paid you off. It truly was your job. But doing it for the real thing: for friendship; for love… that's a whole other ballgame isn't it?"

"Fuck you, Vance."

Gravers laughed out loud at Eliot's response. "Oooh, hitting home, Vance!" he said.

"Fuck you, too, Gravers!" Eliot added with a huff, turning his head away from the two men.

"Nothing wrong with what you do or why you do it, Spencer," Vance said. "And yeah, they feel guilty, because they don't know what else to feel. Not like they're gonna pay you off. This is new to them, too."

"I'm waiting for it…" Gravers said with a smile; waiting for Eliot to curse them out again.

"When the hell did you get so smart, Vance?" Eliot asked, slowly turned his head back toward the room.

"Since my second wife knocked some sense into me and made me a daddy," he replied. "Now shut up and get some rest. There's a good movie coming on," he added, grabbing the TV remote.

Soon the three were engrossed, watching some old eighties movie about some high school bullies and a big mean-looking kid getting hired to protect another kid_._

…..

Parker had let Hardison drive to DC. She needed some time to contemplate their plans for the next few days. "Think it'll be easier if Eliot flew home? It's a long drive in the van," she started. "I'd go with him, so he wouldn't be alone, but then you'd be all alone driving Lucille back."

"Yeah, I don't trust that he'd do the right thing on his own – hell, he'd put up his big tough front and find some bad guys on the plane to fight with and…"

Parker smiled as Hardison continued on with his doom and gloom story about how Eliot would get into trouble without them.

"We could leave Lucille here, and all of us fly back," she suggested. "Then, when Nate and Sophie can take care of Eliot, you and me fly back for Lucille."

"That's better," Hardison replied, but he still didn't sound satisfied.

"I know you don't like leaving her by herself for too long," Parker said of Hardison's prized van. She rubbed Hardison's shoulder to soothe him.

"Or… we can all just stay around here until Eliot's good enough to travel cross country."

They sat silently for a minute before Parker said, "Or we could ask Eliot what he'd rather do."

Hardison turned to look at the blonde. After a few seconds they burst out laughing. "Yeah, like we're gonna let him decide!" he laughed. "Hell, he'd be driving himself home tonight!"

…..

The three men left behind in the motel room spent the afternoon watching the movie and catching up on old times. They talked about old friends and women they'd met along the way. And Vance's eighteen month old daughter…

While Gravers knew from personal experience that all three had their shared and individual histories, and enough in them to cause several rounds of PTSD episodes, there was still a lot of Eliot's history that he didn't know. So he had purposely kept things on the light side, and he actually asked to see the baby pictures. He didn't want Eliot stressed out over anything – knowing that the slightest stressors could set his recovery back.

He looked at Vance, who was now slowing his speech and quieting it. He watched as Eliot's eyes became heavier and heavier, before finally closing.

"That trick work on your kid, too?" Gravers whispered.

"Most of the time," Vance replied with a smile.

The two sat back in their chairs and relaxed again in the silence. Vance took out the book he'd been reading earlier in the morning. Gravers took the time to take a shower.

…..

"I think he'll like this one," Hardison said, holding up a wooden walking stick embellished with colored glass and pewter.

Parker rolled her eyes. "Come on, Hardison, even I know that Eliot won't touch that. He's practical to the boringest degree. This one," she said, holding up a plain wooden cane with a curved handle, "is one he'd actually use."

Hardison sighed. He knew Parker was right. And not because he got his choice in the toy department vs. the pharmacy area of the Walmart… "Fine, then _I'm_ keeping this," he agreed. When Parker raised an eyebrow at him when he put the stick into the shopping cart he exclaimed, "Never know when I might have to tell some Balrog, _'You shall not pass!'_ you know," waving the stick around.

"I thought you already had one of those," Parker countered. "Here, this should work," she went on, putting a package with an arm sling into the cart.

Next they went to the Men's Clothing department and picked out some clothing for Eliot to wear, replacing the clothes that had been ruined.

…..

Vance and Gravers looked to the door as it opened. They knew it was Hardison and Parker, back from their afternoon shopping trip – Hardison had texted Vance to let them know they were back.

The noise of their entry had stirred Eliot to awareness.

Parker took a seat on the bed next to Eliot and put a hand to his forehead, moving some stray hair behind his ear. "How you doing, Sparky?" she asked.

"He'll be fine," Gravers replied for him. "He hasn't puked up any of the sports drink or meds or even that half a peanut butter sandwich, so once that IV runs out, I don't think we'll need to replace it."

"No infection, no fever, no bleeding; that means I'm good to go," Eliot put in, moving to sit up.

"I wouldn't quite say that yet," Gravers countered, pointing a finger at Eliot, and then placing it on his chest and gently pushing down with it.

"Yeah, two bullets twenty-four hours ago…" Vance reminded him, adding a glare to Gravers' current stare.

Eliot just rolled his eyes. "This ain't new to me, boys. I can handle this."

"Oh, give it a rest, man," Hardison chimed in, coming to Eliot's bedside. "If your _medic_ buddy says you still need more time, then you need more time."

Eliot looked hard at the four people surrounding him and realized he wasn't going to win this argument. He relaxed into the pillow. "Fine. But I don't think I need four nursemaids hanging around. I can take care of myself now."

"You're right in that you don't need four nursemaids," Gravers agreed. But he continued, wiping the smug off Eliot's face, saying, "Two ought to do it."

Eliot wanted to argue, but he knew Gravers was right. He nodded his head and looked at Vance. "You got someone else that needs your attention a little bit more than me waiting for you, Vance."

"Yeah, I do," Vance agreed with a smile.

"Why don't we eat dinner first," Parker offered, breaking the moment. "We brought Chinese."

"I won't go away on an empty stomach," Gravers agreed, moving to help Parker with the food.

Hardison, seeing something between Vance and Eliot, moved away to help with the food, too.

"Don't you say that we're even now, Vance," Eliot said quietly. "I am thankful for the help, and you know…" He stopped, unsure of what to say next, and rubbed his forehead with his left hand.

Vance pulled Eliot's hand back gently, untangling the IV that was still embedded. "I wasn't going to say that, Spencer," he told Eliot. "I know that we aren't keeping score anymore. Too much has happened, too many things to count. This isn't about payback."

"I know."

"Hell, if it was about payback, the US government, along with several other nations of the world, would owe the three of us several lifetimes and billions of dollars…"

The two men looked at Gravers, who had joined them with the last statement.

"What?" he asked, shoving some egg noodles into his mouth. "It's a small room. We can hear you."

"And, man, if we let that conversation go on any further, Parker here would be the manliest person in the room," Hardison put in. "And trust me, she is _far_ from that, I'll tell you!"

The group laughed at the antics, but Eliot and Vance knew what was being said. After the food was gone and cleaned up, Gravers took one more look at Eliot's wounds and removed the IV.

"I'm serious, Spencer," he began, putting away his medical supplies. "You need to take it easy. You've got two good friends here willing to wait hand and foot on you – let them."

"I don't know about hand and foot," Hardison replied, only to get pinched by Parker. "What?!" Parker glared at him. "Fine. We will take care of his every need."

"Thanks, man," Eliot said to Gravers, reaching out to shake the medic's hand. "I appreciate the help."

"Anytime, Spencer," he replied. He turned to Parker and Hardison and said, "Now you two set on what to do? I wrote out instructions and left a good supply of bandages and medicines."

"Yeah, thanks," Parker replied and gave him a warm, tight hug. "Thanks for taking care of our Eliot."

Hardison offered his hand and shook it, bringing the man into a half hug/shoulder pat. "Thanks, man. Appreciate all you've done for Eliot."

"He's worth it," Gravers replied. He moved to the door. "I'll wait in the car, Colonel," he said to Vance and left.

"Hardison, Parker," Vance said in turn to the pair. "Take care of him."

"We will. Thanks for your help. For taking care of him, too," Hardison answered for them both.

Vance moved to Eliot's bedside and whispered, "Let them take care of you, Spencer. That's what they need to do. That's how they'll get to pay you back. It's what _you_ need, too." Then aloud, he said, "Take care of yourself, Spencer. And thanks for yesterday. We do owe the three of you a great deal. You saved a lot of lives."

"It's what we do, Vance," Eliot replied. Then, as he offered his hand to shake Vance's, he added a quiet, "Thanks."

Vance looked around the room, making sure his belongings were secured and that the trio had everything they needed. "You're all set with Frank. Just drop off the key before you leave," he said before leaving the room.


End file.
